


the beacon

by baileyjoy3



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, M/M, Summer Love, young!Peter, young!Wade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baileyjoy3/pseuds/baileyjoy3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>powerless!au</p><p>peter goes to the beach for a week every summer. when he's of age, aunt may and uncle ben allow him to visit the local lighthouse on his own which has captivated peter since childhood. he doesn't expect to meet the boy of the old owners when he visits the top. or be so captivated with his eyes.</p><p>NOTE: this is going to start updating again i promise</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> well hello there! the title of this work is from the a fine frenzy song of the same name. the first few lines are very spideypool to me and so this. it's going to be multiple chapters, hopefully updated every few days or so? not sure how many yet so be warned. the rating may go up as the fic progresses and i may add a few more warnings too. depends on where i want to take it. also, powerless!au does not mean pretty!wade uou i'm sorry.
> 
> enjoy!

Peter gets a week vacation every summer, dragged to the beach by his Aunt May and Uncle Ben because he’s too pale and in need of some color. “You’re starting to look sickly,” his Uncle chides and Peter ducks when his hair is threatened to be ruffled. Yes, he loves going to the ocean front, spending his days in the waves or on the sand that burns and blisters his feet. But he’s also getting older. Peter is more attracted to video games and experiments with kitchen materials than he is to swimming alone. There’s the occasional girl, but Peter isn’t sure about them. He went through the stage of teasing girls and thinking they had cooties, but he’s not sure if he ever grew out of it. Other 14 year old boys talk about boobs and butts and all the other things that go with girls and Peter finds himself sneaking glances at his own kind when he’s changing after gym class.

 

Either way, Aunt May has banned video games from the trip, but she’s also given Peter permission to go out by himself this summer. “Explore; visit the lighthouse or the aquarium down the street!” she urges him. Uncle Ben sneaks him ten dollars on his way out the door with a quiet, “Buy a pretty girl some ice cream,” and a wink and Peter is left confused and concerned as he walks into the small ocean side town. Would Uncle Ben be mad if he spent the money on ice cream for a boy? He chews his lower lip as he walks and eventually shakes the thought from his mind. There’s no use worrying about it right now; Peter wants to see the light house.

 

The lighthouse had been part of Peter’s summer desires for his entire life. For the first few years, it had been closed to the public after a devastating storm knocked most of it apart and wrecked the power. After it was fixed, Aunt May and Uncle Ben had aged to a point that walking up and down the entire thing (there was an elevator, but Peter wanted to climb it completely) was like climbing a mountain for any regular person. So he had had to wait until he was of age to be out on his own. And today was that day.

 

Peter wanders the town for a bit, purchasing an ice cream with his own money and tucking Uncle Ben’s away for later. After he had finished, it was off to the lighthouse. It seemed smaller, but that was most likely due to the fact he had spent his childhood staring up at it. He had been told long ago that the family that lived there had moved away when the storm had ruined the place. They hadn’t been able to afford upkeep and repairs and left, leaving the property to the government to take care of it. So now the building was simply a tourist spot, the ground floor open to visitors but the top sealed away to prevent tampering with the light.

 

That was where Peter wanted to go. Years of staring at that swirling light from his bedroom at the cottage had claimed him, like a participant at a magic show is entranced by a hypnotist. He would make it to that top floor no matter what.

 

The visitation fee to the lighthouse was only a few dollars since Peter was under 16, so he was in quickly. The inside of the tower like structure is open, a few benches sitting along the rounded walls. People mill about, looking at the posters and pictures of the lighthouse and its history. There is an occasional tour group as Peter made his way through. In the center is a tall stair case that wrapped around a column like a snake. At the far wall is an elevator that had been covered with tape that read “DANGER” in big bold letters. There is a note to the side that mentions the elevator is going to be sealed off within the year. The staircase is in a similar state: tape across the entrance and a “DO NOT ENTER” sign. The stairs probably would be been removed as well if it weren’t for the fact maintenance men and regular workers still had to go to the top. Peter approaches carefully, glancing around and as a group of people shield him, he slips under the tape and sign to charge the stairs.

 

It’s exhilarating- running as fast as he can to the top to avoid detection. He can’t be caught- _can’t._ Losing now would mean throwing away everything his summer has ever been. He need to get to the top and sit in awe of that large, rotating light and burn his corneas staring at it. That light was his night light when the lack of outlets at the cottage cast him into shadows. It was his childhood.

 

Peter stops at the top of the stairs, catching his breath and glancing over his shoulder because gosh wow, he did it. He made it to the top and there is no one calling for him to come down, or shouting at him for being stupid, threatening to call security or the cops- nothing. His ascension of the stairs may not seem like a big deal to anyone else, but to him, not getting caught is-

 

“Hey, kid.”

 

The voice is enough to make him yelp and the person surges forward, shoving a hand over Peter’s mouth. “ _Shhh,_ jeez. How did you get up here?” Peter thinks for a moment he’s going to get tossed back downstairs when he opens his eyes. But the person (he’s a boy, maybe a few years older than Peter) makes his eyes widen in fascination and a slight curious horror. The boy’s face twists into a grimace and he lets Peter go. He steps away, dropping his gaze and muttering, “Answer the question.”

 

But Peter is awestruck. The boy’s face is scarred- marred beyond belief. It makes him look both years older and younger at the same time. His head is bald, all hair wiped away and it forces Peter to believe that it may be skin cancer? The boy’s eyes shimmer blue like the ocean that is only a few daring feet away. They shimmer like waves, the tide rolling in and out and knocking over wading children that ran in before their parents could stop them. Peter is entranced and it isn’t until those eyes turn harsh at him, narrowed and mean. “I said answer me; how the fuck did you get up here?” The sudden defensiveness makes Peter swallow- he clearly isn’t welcome here.

 

“I- I ran up the stairs before I could get caught. Who are you?” The boy is already rolling those majestic eyes and walking away before Peter even finishes his question. His baggy pants and thick sweatshirt look hot and Peter’s skin cancer theory is edging toward a fact. The motion of the boy pulling a beanie from his pocket to cover his head captivates Peter and his brain disconnects enough for him to gush quietly, “Is it terminal?”

 

This boy, dressed in thick layers, clearly trying to hide himself away, so visibly stiffens under those layers. He hunches forward, wiping his mouth as he turns back to Peter. He sniffs, catching Peter’s gaze carefully, testing the waters as Peter submerges himself back into the waters of his eyes. “You’re the first person who’s ever had the balls to ask me that.” He snorts and crosses his arm. “A little kid like you, sneaking into my home, asking me straight off the bat if this,” he gestures to himself, “is terminal.” He lifts his chin up, defiant of his earlier vulnerability. “If I say yes, are you gonna run away?”

 

Peter’s voice is quiet, mesmerized by the boy before him and his magical ocean eyes. “No.”

 

“Then yeah. It’s terminal and I can’t afford to pay for shit to help.” He shrugs a lazy shoulder. “Name’s Wade. I’m the son of the people who used to own this mess, but they abandoned me along with the property when money got tight.”

 

A fierce wave of emotion slams into him at Wade’s words. His name, which fits so perfectly with his eyes, is information. The rest of it is a story untold and Peter isn’t sure he wants to hear it all. He watches Wade float away toward the light, currently off to conserve power. “I’m sorry.” Wade turns, blinks owlishly at Peter and laughs. “You’re sorry? Kid, I’m glad my parents left. They didn’t ask for me and they didn’t ask for me to get cancer. I would have left, too.” Before Peter can open his mouth and protest, Wade chops him off. “You gotta name?”

 

“Peter. Peter Benjamin Parker.”

 

Wade snorts again (a noise Peter is becoming fond of) and flashes a grin. “You gonna give me your social security number, too?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is! just wanted to remind you guys all of my stuff is unbeta'd. any mistakes or issues in grammar or plot and following is all on me. sorry. updated the rating to mature because peen flash and stuff is gonna happen in the next chapter or so yeah shhh dont hate me.

Peter runs back to the lighthouse early the next morning. He only has six days left and he’s not going to waste them. This is the first time in his entire life he’s had a friend on his vacation. Well, maybe Wade isn’t exactly a friend, but Peter considers him something. He bounds up the swirling staircase again, surging to the top and looking around for Wade. He spots a door off to the side and approaches carefully. This could be security or something for all he knows and that would mean getting thrown out. But nothing marks the door and for all of his hesitation, Peter opens the door.

 

It’s not necessarily what he expected. Actually, he didn’t expect this at all. The room he enters is a small living room, a couch and loveseat surrounding a little TV. A coffee table separates the objects. There’s a kitchenette off to the side, a little table with three chairs around it that sits on the tile floor which splits from the carpet of the living room. There is a hall that curves with the structure of the lighthouse that Peter assumes leads to bedrooms. This is someone’s home. This is Wade’s home; Peter can feel it in his gut that if he went down that hall, there would be door and behind it, Wade would be fast asleep in a bed. And Peter’s overwhelming fascination with this teen prompts him to step in, breech into Wade’s haven and find his room.

 

The door at the end of the hall is a master bedroom. The bed is large and clearly disused. This is where Wade’s parents stayed. It pains Peter to remember that they abandoned their son. In a rush, his mind assaults him with the fact that his parents did the same thing. He was left with someone though. Wade has no one.

 

Peter removes himself from the room, feeling as if he is intruding and turns to the other door. He thinks that the one across from this one is probably a bathroom. There is a thought for a moment that Wade may be mad at him for bursting into his room, but he can’t help himself. He curls a hand around the doorknob and pushes the door in, his breath catching against his will as the room is revealed to him. Wade is sprawled on the full sized bed, a blanket thrown over him only covering from the waist down. Is he naked? Dear God, does Wade sleep naked? Did he just fall asleep after a shower? Peter swallows and clears his throat.

 

Wade bolts up, face shocked and then defensive. The blanket falls away and yep- he’s definitely naked. Wade blinks and tilts his head, suddenly bleary as he recognizes Peter and doesn’t see him as a threat. “Peter? What are you doing in here?” As Wade gathers himself into consciousness, Peter takes the moment to stare at him. Appreciate him. Because Wade is captivating all over again. Wade glances at himself, a practically invisible shiver racing up his spine before he lazily pulls the blanket back up. “Huh. Well, fuck.”

 

In a blur of motion, Peter is turned around, shouting apologies for barging in and seeing Wade like this and covering his face and blushing so bright like a red tomato because the only penis he’s ever seen is his own and it looked nothing like _that._ He falls silent when Wade doesn’t answer, listening for some sort of tell. It comes with a hand on his shoulder and Peter stiffens. “I’ve got pants on; you can open your eyes.” Peter does so hesitantly and turns to face Wade who is now fully dressed up to his wrists and ankles with a beanie over his head. “That was fast.” Wade snorts and shrugs a shoulder and Peter pinches his lips together because he loves that sound. “I don’t like people seeing all of me. So congrats, kid; you’ve pushed my self deprecation over an edge.” Wade’s expression looks grim as he turns away, sitting back on the bed and sprawling out.

 

Peter swallows gently, holding his hands and wringing them slightly. He knew this was a bad idea. “I’m sorry.” Wade glances over at him, marred face blank of any expression. He doesn’t care now. Peter has seen him so open and defenseless and he had no ability to stop him from doing so. The realization of this makes Peter feel like a total douche. He needs to recover this someone and the only way Peter has ever done that is by blurting it all out at once before he can be stopped or convince himself it’s a bad idea.

 

“You’re beautiful. Your eyes shine like the moon reflecting off the ocean and they pull me in like the tide every time I look at them. You’re tall and handsome and every single mark that covers you show how strong you are. You’re fighting terminal cancer and winning and I don’t know anyone who has done that ever. You cover it all up and you shouldn’t have to. You’re not a monster. You’re perfect and beautiful and I don’t know if I like boys or girls but I know that I like you. You call me ‘kid’ even though you know my name is Peter and you didn’t kick me out and you still haven’t and I’ve never seen anyone naked but myself and-“ Peter falters, looses track and mumbles as he stops, swallowing loud enough he can hear it himself. That warm heat is back now- on his neck and ears and face and all the way up to his hairline. “I really like it when you snort because it’s always directed at me and it makes me think you care.”

 

Wade’s sitting up now, staring- _gaping-_ at Peter. He blinks once, twice, three times and shakes his head, shutting his mouth. And then he’s laughing and Peter frowns, his blush fading away but still feeling all the same amount of humiliation. Wade’s looking at him again now, still chuckling and grinning, but his eyes are hard. And Peter is scared. “Listen, Pete. If you think that’s gonna help any of this? My self esteem, my eternal hatred for myself, the fact I know I’m not good enough and probably going to die alone? It’s not. I don’t mind being your friend and entertaining you, but if you’re going to try and help, you may as well leave.”

 

Peter nods; it’s all he can do.

 

Wade is right. Why should his words mean anything? But, Peter has never given up on anything. And he’s not going to give up on Wade.

 

“Will you let me try?”

 

He can practically hear Wade’s sigh. Peter watches him roll on the bed, onto his stomach. “Sure whatever, knock yourself out. How long are you gonna be here for?” “Six days left.” “Have fun.” “I’m going to be here every day and we’re going to do something.” “Wha-?” “I want to go to the aquarium. Take me.” Wade sits up, narrowing his eyes in confusion at Peter. “Now?” Peter’s nod is firm. He’s not going to let Wade wallow and he’s going to work hard to make this happen. He’s never been in love and he’s never had a boyfriend or girlfriend, so Wade seems like a damn good place to start. Wade seems to recognize the determination in Peter’s gaze and sighs, nodding in defeat. “Alright, kid, you win. Let me get some shoes on, jeez, pushy little brat,” he mumbles. Peter beams- he’s done it. Wade glances at him as he’s shoving on a shoe, curiosity in his eyes. Peter has taken to searching out his room from the doorway.

 

Whatever this kid is, Wade finds himself drawn. And that’s probably not a good thing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does saying major (background) character death give anything away? i hope not. enjoy guys sorry this took longer than expected! also as always, unbeta'ed and such so any mistakes are all my own. also warnings have been edited. the underage will be discussed at the end.

The aquarium is down a few blocks from the lighthouse, back into town. Peter insists on stopping and buying ice cream now (this time with the money from Uncle Ben) even though Wade adamantly refuses to let Peter pay for him. In the end, the split the bill and keep on walking. Peter licks at his vanilla cone, humming when he gets to the caramel swirls that are mixed in. He’s only ever found this flavor here in this town and he’s going to savor it properly. Wade’s simply sucking on a grape Popsicle, easily dyeing his lips and tongue purple in the process. Catching sight of this makes Peter lick his own lips, distracted by Wade.

 

They catch a few looks on the way into the aquarium; who wouldn’t stare? Peter’s dressed in a simple t-shirt and shorts, a pair of flip flops on his feet, while Wade is decked head to toe in winter gear. It’s thin material, but still, wearing jeans, a jacket over his shirt and sneakers with a beanie to top it all off in the middle of summer is a little much. But Peter is not one to judge and Wade seems used to the stares. Still, when Peter catches sight of a mother pulling her son away when they approach one of the tanks makes his stomach churn.

 

“Please don’t try and stand up for me.” The words catch Peter’s attention away from where he had been glaring at a couple whispering about Wade. “People talk about me all the time. Tourists come for new experiences but when they see something unexpected they react on instinct. It happens all the time, kid.” Peter swallows a reply and nods, turning his attention back to the fish in front of them.

 

Maybe it’s the defiance in him that Aunt May and Uncle Ben never shut down, or maybe it’s just that Peter really likes Wade that much. Either way, as they head down a hall that’s made entirely of thick glass tank walls, Peter reaches casually to thread his fingers through Wade’s jacket hidden fingers. The other teen stiffens, stops (but is polite enough to move them out of the way) and looks at Peter with a concerned expression. “What are you doing?” “Holding your hand.” “We aren’t a couple, kid-“ “You looked sad.”

 

Wade has to stop again and finally he huffs and starts walking again, dragging Peter along.

 

They stop again in the shark room, where little boys have their faces pressed to the glass, teasing little girls who jump and run to their camp counselors whenever a shark swims by. Peter and Wade hover in the back, waiting for the camp to move through. There’s another couple (Peter reminds himself that Wade does not consider he and Peter a couple) who are giggling and exchanging silly kisses and Peter wants to find it sickening but he’s desiring the same thing. He takes it as a small victory that they’re holding hands and that this couple is too engrossed in each other to notice Wade.

 

As the camp clears the room, Wade approaches the tank, dropping his hold on Peter’s hand. Peter’s phone buzzes with a call from Uncle Ben (which he ignores, he never calls for anything important; that’s Aunt May’s job) and he then scurries after, watching the sharks with a worried expression. 

 

“There are a few species of sharks that live completely on their own. They are left by their parents when they can fend for themselves and find their own space to hunt and live. All by themselves. Except when it comes to breeding.” Peter is a bit confused by this sudden information, but keeps his eyes on the shark that swims by them and lets Wade continue. “These solitary sharks will travel across an entire ocean basin to find breeding grounds. They cover thousands of miles to get there and only for the sake of finding someone else.” Wade’s fingers have curled into Peter’s again, squeezing slightly as he watches a mako shark swim by above their heads. “Sometimes I come down here and just sit and watch the sharks and think maybe I’ll leave this place and find someone.” Peter swallows- ouch. “But now, I think maybe my shark found me.”

 

Peter blinks, turning to look at Wade and consider that the comparison of him to a lone shark would nearly be accurate, but his phone starts blaring loudly before he can answer. He rushes to the bench in the center of the room, checking the caller ID (‘Aunt May <3’ the screen reads) before answering.

 

“Hey, Aunt May- what’s up? I- can I call you back? I’m in the aquarium right now…” Peter pauses when he hears the faint sob that he recognizes of his aunt so clearly. “Aunt May, what’s wrong?” She catches her breath for a moment, her voice wracked with emotion and such clear pain. Something is very, very wrong. “Aunt May-“ “Peter.” “What happened?” “Your uncle,” she’s broken off by another series of sobs and there’s a muffled voice from the background and the sound of shifting. “Aunt May, please- what happened to Uncle Ben?” Wade has come to sit next to him now, curious concern written across his face in the form of narrowed brows. Peter shakes his head, unable to get an answer from his aunt until finally: “Hi; is this Peter?” “Yeah, I’m May’s nephew. Who is this?” “I work at the hospital here in town, dear. Your aunt came in a little bit ago.” “Is she okay?! I thought something happened to my uncle?” The woman’s voice shushes him and Peter lifts his knees to his chest, worry starting to bleed in his chest. “Here, she’s calmed down now, I’ll let her tell you.”

 

“Peter.” “Aunt May-!” “Your uncle went out earlier to pick up some groceries for dinner.” “Are you both okay?” “Someone tried to mug him, Peter.” “Aunt May, please, tell me everything’s alright!” Desperation is seeping into his tone, his voice cracking with the threat of tears and when Wade reaches out to touch, Peter stands and moves a few steps away quickly.

 

“He got shot. He’s dead.”

 

Peter’s phone falls from his hand and the screen shatters on impact. Suddenly, things feel slower, unreal. The sharks swim in slow motion, his hand falls away from his face at half speed, and Wade rushing to him as he drops to his knees all feels like he’s in a movie with bad blur effects to make things look slow. Wade catches him under the armpits, his voice silent but his lips moving as Peter wails. A staff member rushes to help, picking up Peter’s phone and talking to his aunt as Wade helps Peter back onto the bench.

 

This was real. Who would shoot Uncle Ben? Who would even thinking about trying to harm him! Peter sobs, dropping his chin to his chest as Wade rubs his back, trying to console as best he can. “Peter, tell me what’s wrong; what happened? Come on.” Wade hooks an arm around Peter’s back, lifting him from the bench and out toward the bathroom. The staff member tells them Peter’s aunt is at the hospital and he can head there whenever. She gives Wade Peter’s phone and Wade makes Peter lean against the counter. Something is wrong and he’s not going to leave Peter like this because he’s a little uncomfortable. 

 

There’s a paper towel dispenser and Wade takes a few, wets them and starts to wipe at Peter’s eyes. “Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or do I have to keep watching you cry?” Peter sniffs, shaking his head and then nodding briefly.

 

“My uncle got mugged and shot. That was my aunt on the phone.”

 

Wade’s kiss is probably the second most unexpected thing today.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah sorry uncle ben had to die the angst was needed. underage applies to the fact both boys are underage. there won't be any sex, but they are in a relationship and there may be some stuff that happens that isn't appropriate for them to be doing. in my state, 16 is legal so wade doing things to peter blah blah blah yeah. covering my butt. thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so nothing bad happens here guys no changes to the warnings or anything just a bit of fluff to help your hearts from the last chapter. but. be warned. shits gonna go down next time. ahahaha enjoy the fluff while you can.

Wade and Peter go back to the lighthouse after getting back in touch with Aunt May. She says that the rest of their vacation is going to be spent trying to figure out what to do now. They have to get the body back to New York for a funeral and it’s going to take all of her time to figure it out. Having to do all of this isn’t something she wants Peter to deal with. She gives him free reign for the rest of their time, as long as he keeps her up to speed with his plans. 

 

Peter’s still pretty shook up and shocked by the whole thing; how can he not be? But he doesn’t want that to hinder on what just happened. Is it bad to put kissing a boy you don’t even know before the murder of your uncle? Peter hopes not. But Wade wants to comfort Peter and Peter is more than happy to accept that comfort in the form of kisses.

 

They’re gentle and testing at first, small presses of their lips, a scratchy hand cupping Peter’s cheek and guiding him. And on the couch it morphs into more- careful prods of Wade’s tongue against his lips until Peter is opening up and now there are two hands on his face and Wade’s leaning into him and Peter forgets his inexperience because Wade doesn’t seem to mind. It isn’t until Wade has him lying down on the couch, sitting across his hips and kissing him like a sailor that Peter considers his age.

 

“Wade,” Peter gasps, lifting his lips away from the kiss which Wade only sees as invitation to explore his neck. And gosh that tickles a lot. Peter giggles breathlessly and Wade makes a pleased noised in his throat, brushing his lips along Peter’s jugular and then kissing the hinge of his jaw. For all of the distraction this is bringing from Uncle Ben, Peter still knows it isn’t fully appropriate. He was raised on good morals and not necessarily saving himself for marriage but at least waiting for the right person and they were both of age. And while Wade may be sixteen and legal for this sort of thing, Peter definitely isn’t. Besides, they’ve only known each other for a day! How is he supposed to know Wade is ‘the right person’?

 

Unfortunately, Wade has the flesh of Peter’s neck between his lips before Peter can protest and it isn’t until he feels Wade suck that he takes action. He yelps in surprise, jerking and bringing up his arms to push Wade back. Peter scrambles off the couch to run to the bathroom and check if there’s any sort of mark. Just because Aunt May is dealing with this whole situation, doesn’t mean she won’t notice a bright red hickey on Peter’s neck. Thankfully, there isn’t anything there; the spot is just a little wet with Wade’s saliva from where his lips had been. Wade’s in the doorway then, his expression nervous. “You alright? Did I hurt you or something?” 

 

Peter shakes his head, grinning softly when Wade blows out a breath of air and crosses his arm. “So what the heck was that? I was enjoying myself there.” Peter considers the fact that Wade had, as recently as this morning, said he wasn’t interested in being with Peter, but ignores it. “I think you’ve forgotten our age difference.” Peter prods at the spot once more as Wade’s face twists in confusion and outright bafflement. “What are you talking about?” Peter casts Wade a nervous look and the older boy laughs. “Dude, I lost my virginity when I was thirteen. But hey, whatever, if you don’t want to do that we don’t have to.” Wade sounds so mature and thirteen? Is he serious? The fact makes Peter feel like a prude. Here he is at fourteen never having even looked at a girl with that sort of desire. But, maybe this is why? Maybe he’s never touched himself to a girl or thought about one like that because they just don’t do it for him? He always found himself more drawn to boys who stripped off their shirts during gym or teased the girls when they messed something up. He wanted to be one of those girls- teased by a pretty boy because, well, they thought he was pretty too. 

 

The realization that he’s gay is a little overwhelming and he realizes he’s freaking out when Wade reaches for his shoulders. “Yo, Pete, you alright there, kid? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Trust me, the place isn’t haunted; I’ve checked.” Wade’s poorly placed words are enough to make Peter laugh and he leans into his touch, resting his head on Wade’s shoulder. There’s a pause, Wade’s hesitance clear, before a warm hand settles on his back and another on his hair. “I hope that everything works out with what happened.” Peter takes a breath and turns his head to hide in Wade’s neck. “Oh, so we’re back to that then?”

 

Peter laughs and he’s glad he came with Wade because this is a distraction. He can deal with Uncle Ben and being gay and all of the stress later. For now he’s got Wade and his captivating eyes and warmth that probably comes from too many layers. But Peter doesn’t mind. He wants to curl up in Wade’s warm and have his hair played with and maybe cry a little more.

 

“I like your hair, Pete.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“You have hair. It’s soft and fluffy and falls in your face and you actually have to wash it and brush it and I like it.” Wade’s nose nuzzles against the top of Peter’s head and there’s a sinking feeling in his stomach. Wade has terminal cancer that has left him horribly disfigured and bald. His love of Peter’s hair probably stems from his own lack of. And it hurts Peter, but for right now he’s going to ignore it. “Please don’t ever be one of those people who shaves it off in support of cancer. I’d want you to keep it.” Wade kisses his forehead and even with all of their problems and issues and everything that is going wrong-

 

Peter thinks this just might work.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyyy look who's back! ha, finally. yeah so um, enjoy? don't hate me for being so late? ahahaha...

Peter eventually decides that he really can’t stay the night at the lighthouse and no matter what amount of permission Aunt May gave, he doesn’t want her to be alone with this. He needs to collect himself about the matter as well. Wade’s distraction was only just that- a distraction. Sure, it was welcomed, but he needs to go home.

 

“Leavin’, kid?” Wade murmurs from his spot on the couch, reclined into a pile of teenage mush that Peter finds a bit endearing. He shifts, gathering himself to his feet and coming to stand close to Peter.

 

“Yeah,” he mumbles softly back as Wade lifts a hand to brush his hair from his face. “I need to check on my aunt. And, it’s probably better if I stay with her.” Wade’s finger tightens around a lock of Peter’s hair, his lips pursing when Peter steps away, hair intact. “Okay?”

 

“Gimme your phone.”

 

There’s a quick exchange of numbers before Peter is bounding down the stairs of the lighthouse, free to roam now that he has Wade’s okay. The security can’t really touch him since Wade kind of owns the place. So he races past guards as they change shifts and makes it back to the cottage before the sun has even considered setting. Aunt May is on the couch and Peter stops like the air has been knocked from his chest.

 

“You look,” he pauses, “bad.”

 

Aunt May forces out a pitiful laugh, dabbing at her eyes with the tissue she’s holding. She pats the space next to her, chewing her lip carefully. Peter settles next to her and after a moment’s hesitation, he leans into her, sighing as she drapes an arm around his shoulder.

 

“The police just left. They said they wanted to see if Ben had anything that may have led to this.” Peter opens his mouth to protest, but Aunt May continues. “I told them they could leave.” She rubs his shoulder before glancing down at Peter. “They’re holding him to look for evidence or something but they said they could ship him back to the city when they were done.” Her voice gets weaker as she continues the sentence, her distress becoming astronomically clear. Peter hides his face into her side. “I don’t want this to ruin your vacation, Petey…”

 

“Aunt May-“

 

“Please, Peter. Just, enjoy yourself until we leave. I need someone to be strong for us.”

 

Peter stiffens a bit. That’s what his mother had told him when they’d left. Be strong for us, Pete. We’ll be back, promise, she had murmured into his hair. He doesn’t want to be strong. He wants to break down and cry but Aunt May. She wants him to be strong and he can do that. For her. Besides, with Wade he has some sort of outlet at least. He can’t sit around and mope in his room when he knows Wade will be pestering him.

Aunt May sends him off to his room for the night, making mention to dinner later when she’s relaxed, and Peter thinks about Wade a bit more clearly.

 

What a pair they are. Nothing better to do then mope with each other. Uncle Ben was the source of every good memory in Peter’s short life so far. That may sound dramatic, but he knows it’s true. A boy and his father are supposed to be like this, and if Peter’s father was his uncle, that’s alright. Now that Uncle Ben is gone, he’s not sure what to do. Aunt May won’t recover as quickly as she says; Peter knows that.

 

But then there’s Wade, alone, hopeless, and dying. Dying. He hadn’t thought about it. Wade hadn’t really made it a big deal, but Peter knows it is. Wade is sixteen and every single day is just another step closer to death for him.

 

Wade had nothing and Peter has nearly lost everything. What a pair.

 

~

 

Wade texts him the next morning, asking for him to meet him at the beach by the lighthouse. It’s open to tourists so no one will make a big deal of two boys together at the beach; besides, everyone goes to the beach. Peter asks Aunt May over breakfast and she doesn’t even remind him to pack sunscreen.

 

Peter grabs it anyway.

 

Wade slides his hand into Peter’s as soon as he’s close enough, his lips kissing his forehead and wow, Peter hadn’t thought they were that close or serious. It’s not like he minds though, honestly. Wade is great and everything he needs right now. Besides, he’s only going to be here for a few more days.

 

They settle on the sand not to far from the water, Wade coaxing Peter’s head into his lap to pet his hair, encouraging him to tell him about the rest of his night. Peter talks about it without much interest, watching the waves on the shore while Wade’s fingers scritch along his scalp. He falls quiet after he finishes, lulled by the white noise of people on the beach, ebbs and flows of the waves, and the gentle call of gulls in the background. Wade is dressed in long sleeves and jeans, a beanie pulled over his ears while Peter is dressed in only his swim trunks. He gets it, he does, but how odd they must look.

 

“I’m going to die soon.”

 

Peter thinks in a split second reaction, what else is new, but then it full hits him, smacks him in the chest and it doesn’t matter how close they are. Wade doesn’t deserve to die. He starts up and comes away a few hairs less for it, but that doesn’t matter. Peter makes split second reactions; it’s what emotional teenagers do.

 

“What are you saying? W-What does that mean? Soon? How soon is soon?”

 

Peter doesn’t understand how fast he became emotionally attached to Wade.

 

Wade shrugs vaguely and scratches at his cheek, lips twisted in a picture of uncaring. “I dunno. A few days? A week tops. I went to the doctor early this morning. Cancer’s kicking my ass, kid.”

 

This was supposed to be a fun family vacation. Peter had no plans to meet a boy or let his uncle get killed or watch said boy capture his heart and then crush it without care. Wade can’t die. Everyone can’t die. Peter doesn’t want people to keep dying.

 

“Wade, please.”

 

Wade’s face twists under Peter’s tone and then shifts again, concealed anger. “Listen, I came to terms with this a long time ago. I need you not to be so,” he gestures to Peter, “whiney, about the whole thing. I’m letting you know to know. Don’t get all,” he pauses again, “worried. It’s annoying.”

 

Wade’s treating him like a child and Peter ducks his head, wipes his nose. “Alright,” he mutters, playing with his hands in his lap before reaching for Wade’s easily, carefully lacing their fingers lazily in a loose hold. “I don’t want you to die.”

 

“I don’t either,” he says softly, ducking his head to catch Peter’s gaze. “I never asked to die, but I accepted that I would. Can you? For me?” He brushes his lips over Peter’s forehead and he doesn’t care anymore.

 

Peter is a fourteen year old boy in way too deep for something like this. But he nods all the same as he starts to sob silently, leaning into Wade’s hand when he touches his cheek


End file.
